They licked at his legs
The tongues of flame
Tugging his cloke
as it stroked the path.
He searched for the end
Lifted the catch on the door
Solid silver
it shimmered
as he pushed it away.
His pale legs burned
Wounded, they stung
In this moment he knew
his journey had just begun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem